The Glass Cricket
by SpicyHumanoidSauce
Summary: 100 therapy sessions that Regina Mills has with Archie. Very Regina-centric. Tiny bit of SwanQueen near the end because I can. (TW inside)


**TW: allusions to abuse and rape. Not graphic.**

Session 1:

At first, she sits in complete silence.

The tick of the clock and the ever-present ache of her legendary stubbornness. She won't give in so easily. (But he already knew that.)

She's wearing a black turtleneck and gray slacks, and she makes eye contact without hesitation. In fact, she makes more eye contact than he does. Hiding in plain sight.

Archie flips open his notepad. This will be interesting.

Session 5:

By their fifth session, he is asking the questions and she supplies bored, dry answers. You would think he is the village idiot from the way those dark eyes roll.

She is hiding. Always hiding.

Despite her reputation, Archie realizes that Regina Mills is afraid.

Session 7:

"So, how is Henry?"

It's the right thing to ask; her cocoa-colored eyes spark and Regina begins to describe her son's good grades and recent art projects with the detail and stamina of a novelist.

It's astonishing. This anti-social woman blossoming into a constant smile as she discusses things like casual breakfast conversations.

Archie writes it all down.

That is to say, he scribbles on his notepad, 'first genuine smile'.

Session 10:

She's upset about something, he can tell.

She came in this afternoon with her eyes hooded and guarded, and she has her arms drawn up around her body as if he is going attack her. There is a red tinge to her face that comes after one has been crying.

She doesn't say a word that day.

But Archie sees Henry getting ice cream with Emma Swan outside the window, and he casts his guesses.

Session 15:

He moves, suddenly, snatching his pen off the table.

Regina flinches.

Session 18:

"Tell me about your mother." Archie says, leaning forward, pen poised between his fingers. His notepad is already full of notes about this woman, and she still surprises him. Every damn time.

Regina stares at him.

Then, she barks out a short, dry laugh. "What is there to tell? She was, quite literally, heartless."

Her hand comes up to brush the scar on her lip.

Archie doesn't like to make assumptions, but when Regina leaves, he sees a network of thin scars on her back, just above the low cut of her black dress.

Session 25:

"Do you know where he's buried?"

"No."

Session 30:

She breaks her first object: a cheap glass ornament shaped like a cricket. Archie hates it, which is good, because the fragile little thing is _history._

It smashes to smithereens against the oak door. She has a good arm; powerful.

Archie just sits patiently and waits.

Session 37:

"Leopold."

All the therapist has to do is utter the name, and Regina goes rigid.

Her olive skin drains of color. Archie watches years of memories resurface in her eyes, swirling around like ash after a fire.

She picks up her bag and storms out without another word.

Session 40:

She is more comfortable now, but he can see sleepless circles hanging below her dark eyes, deep and bruise-colored.

"The nightmares are back?"

A moment of hesitation. "Yes."

Session 52:

"He was just being a husband. It... there was nothing wrong with it at the time."

Archie just looks at her. His expression urges her to go on. He can tell that she has kept these secrets for years, buried under her anger.

It is not the first tear she has shed in this office, but it falls like a bead of glass, casting a watery glimmer upon her lovely, broken face.

"It was normal." Regina whispers.

He replies softly, "No, Regina. It wasn't."

Session 59:

"I can't have children."

Session 63:

"I can't be expected to answer such… silly questions." Regina deflects, voice thick.

Archie reaches out and gently touches her hand.

They don't speak. They just sit like that, together, for what feels like hours. The brass clock ticks away on the mantle. The sound of autumn exhales outside. Their eyes skirt each other, refusing to meet.

Finally, Regina answers him. "With the whip."

Session 77:

Regina screams and sobs and gasps like all the air is running out.

Her tears split shining tracks down her face, and she chokes on oxygen, desperately floundering for something to hold on to.

Her arms wrap around her middle and she just hugs herself, feeling her own heartbeat, eyes wide and frantic as the panic attack washes over her like endless, violent ocean waves, dragging her into the deep.

He's never seen her so helpless. She curls her hands into fists and just cries, and cries, and cries.

Session 82:

"You still have nightmares about the king?"

"Yes."

It is said softly, as if she still can't believe that she is confiding in him. It is almost _accusing—_ **why aren't you making me better?**

But he smiles and writes everything down.

Session 91:

Today she wears the same black turtleneck and gray slacks. And a smile.

Session 95:

"Do you think that what Cora did was wrong?"

Regina was caught off guard by the question, but as always, her eyes blazed like he was challenging her to a battle of wits.

The spark glowed brighter when she answered, defiantly, "All mothers have different ways of raising their children."

Session 97:

She was soaking wet that day, and although her clothes were the tailored red dress and black pumps she sported on good days, she was also wearing a kiss, bright as daylight on her lips. The rain thunders on the pavement outside.

There's a sparkle in Regina's eye as she brushes a few strands of sopping raven hair out of her face. She is glowing.

Archie can't help but ask, twinkling, "Miss Swan?"

Session 98:

Snow doesn't believe her.

She is crushed, of course, but Archie had warned her this might happen. After all, _he_ was the princess's father. It is hard to admit that the ones you love did terrible things.

Regina keeps her chin up, and keeps moving. Like she has always done. Like she always will.

Session 100:

"Are you okay, Regina?"

A hesitation, then a small smile.

"Yes."


End file.
